


At Last

by Laminamara



Category: The Borgias
Genre: F/M, Family, Romance, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-30
Updated: 2013-05-30
Packaged: 2017-12-13 11:17:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/823681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laminamara/pseuds/Laminamara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After years apart, having had to live her life without her brother, Lucrezia finally reunites with Cesare after death. Borgiacest. One-Shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At Last

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing and no money is made with this, all the characters belong to Neil Jordan and Showtime.

The world was drained of colours. Ever since they had taken her dead child away from her, the grey had crept into the edges of her vision, erasing everything else. What had once been vibrant and lively was now tainted by a dull hue that no longer held any interest for her.

As Lucrezia slipped in and out of consciousness, she was only partly aware of what was happening around her; her husband sitting at her bedside, holding her hand; her children being led into the room, Ippolito crying, Ercole holding his brother and sister who were too young to understand.

She knew she was close, she could feel it; the whisper of death, its soft beckoning so cruel in its temptation. She tried to resist its call, for the sake of her children, for her husband who had become a valued companion to her over the years, but still she found herself failing. Surrounded by her loved ones, there was someone missing, someone she was desperate to find again.

“Don’t fret, my love,” Lucrezia whispered, noticing the silent tears on Alfonso’s cheeks.

She wasn’t afraid of death. She recalled her father’s desperation after the first attempt on his life, the fear in his eyes as he told them that he had not seen God; that perhaps God wasn’t there. Lucrezia felt no such fear. Even if there was no God, no heaven, there was one person who would never abandon her. She wouldn’t be alone.

“I’m finally going home.”

When she next opened her eyes, she was standing in her mother’s old garden. It had been years since she’d last seen the place and she surveyed her surroundings in wonder. The pond, the fountain with the water springing from it clear and pure, the lush grass, meticulously kept; it all looked as it had when she was still a child.

Was this her heaven, her paradise? Lucrezia looked down and saw that she was no longer wearing her nightshirt, instead she was dressed in a pale golden satin gown, loosely fitted. It was simple, but elegant, yet so different from what she had worn in recent years. Surprise at her attire mixed with memories of simpler times, when this garden had been filled with the laughter and joy of her family.

Everything had been so different then. The world had yet been full of wonders and surprises. How innocent she’d been, how naive. Sometimes she missed those days, the simplicity that had once ruled her life. An unexpected feeling of freedom overcame her and she spun around, laughing.

Her excitement lasted only for a moment, however, before a sense of dread crushed her joy. She stopped. Where was everybody? If this was paradise, then where was Cesare? A sudden panic gripped her heart. He had to be here!

A memory pushed its way into her mind, of a sunny morning that she had spent spying on her brother and his conquest for the night. An idea sprang up and, gathering her skirts around her ankles, she ran towards Cesare’s room, flinging herself at the window the way she had done a lifetime ago.

The room was empty. The bed with its translucent hangings still looked the same, the sheets rumpled, a pillow on the floor. But there was no sign of her brother. Lucrezia fell back on her heels, unable to stop the desperation that stifled her. Had she landed in hell instead of heaven? Had her sins been so great for her to be deserving of such a fate?

Immersed as she was in her misery, she almost didn’t notice the hand that settled on her shoulder. Her breath stopped. The grip was strong, but gentle and she would know that touch even if all her senses failed her. She had imagined it a thousand times; when her husband made love to her, it had been this hand that had touched her naked skin; when her lovers worshipped her, this touch had been the one that had reached inside her soul. It had invaded her dreams and never left.

Her eyes fell closed as her own hand travelled upwards to interlace her fingers with his. Her heart quickened. The long, elegant fingers closed around hers and she hardly dared move for fear it was just a dream; an illusion that would be gone as soon as she opened her eyes.

“I have missed those hands,” she breathed and the grip tightened, almost crushing in its ferocity.

Lucrezia whipped around. For twelve painful years she had longed for this moment, to see the face she loved above all others.

Now Cesare stood before her, in all his dark glory, as young and vibrant as when she’d last seen him and all she could do was stare. Her dreams had been haunted by his eyes, always so full of passion and determination; his deep laugh; his voice when he whispered her name, but her imagination did not compare to this. The way he was looking at her made it hard for her to breathe.

Their mouths found each other as he pulled her into a crushing embrace, too tight for comfort, yet still not tight enough. She revelled in his taste, the feel of his lips, the warmth of his body.

Gasping for breath, Cesare pulled back, his forehead pressed against hers. “And I have missed that face,” he said, his voice cracking.

Lucrezia laughed, a trembling sound that betrayed the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. She closed her eyes once again, basking in his touch, the way his fingers were tangled in her hair. His breath on her skin was like the brush of a feather, softly caressing her. She leaned into him, nuzzling her nose into the crook of his neck while he gently stroked her hair. He still smelled of leather and horses, a scent so familiar that she wanted to cry.

Here in Cesare’s arms, their bodies moulded together as one, she felt at peace.

In death she was finally whole again.

**Author's Note:**

> A.N: I hope you liked it. Please let me know what you think, reviews are always appreciated. :)


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